


Break From Routine

by SushiOwl, Twisted_Mind



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, College Student Stiles Stilinski, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Frottage, Insomnia, Insomniac Stiles Stilinski, M/M, sleepy grumbly Chris Argent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:21:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26414074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SushiOwl/pseuds/SushiOwl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Mind/pseuds/Twisted_Mind
Summary: Of course this half-baked crock of Scott plan has ended in sleepless disaster. He should never have expected anything else.
Relationships: Chris Argent/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 56
Kudos: 458





	Break From Routine

**Author's Note:**

> From Twist: So I have, once again, been a terrible enabler of the highest order by falling backasswards into a collab by accident. I regret nothing. Happy Friday, everyone!
> 
> From Sushi: This was a sort of prompt for Twist that sat dead in the air for months. Then Twist came in, as she does, and breathed life into it again. Hail hail the savior of fics.

He doesn't _want_ to be awake, but his brain won't shut up. Stiles lets out a soft sigh and rolls over, trying to snuggle into the bed and relax. It's a nice mattress. He likes this mattress. He can sleep deep and hard on this mattress most of the time, albeit under certain circumstances. 

He rolls over onto his other side, sticking a foot out from under the blanket even though he isn't that warm.

"Stiles."

Uh oh.

"Yeah?" he murmurs, hazarding a look at the other side of the bed.

Chris is flat on his back, pale moonlight playing across his serene features and greying hair. "Stop moving," he grumbles, deep and gravelly and shading towards annoyed.

"You can feel that?" He says as small and cute as he can, because Chris struggles to stay mad at him when he does.

"Baby, _China_ can feel that."

"Oh."

Chris shifts onto his side to give a flat glare before letting his eyes slip shut again. He looks tired, obviously much closer to sleep than Stiles is. "You asked for this."

"I know," Stiles whispers, shuffling closer until he can nuzzle against Chris's furry chest. "I have regrets."

"Mm." Chris hums sleepily, dropping a kiss on his head.

They have a routine. Stiles has an anxious hamster mind, and it never runs faster in its little wheel than when he's trying to settle down for sleep. Trial and error has revealed that the best way to calm down for bed is, well. For Chris to fuck him into oblivion. It's a good routine and hasn't failed them yet, but. 

But Stiles has an exam in the morning, and he _has_ to do well. It’s worth more than half his grade, and he can't take this course again, and the textbook was $250 and will probably change next semester. The little hamster has been running in the wheel non-stop as a result, and even his “breaks” have been spent researching the best ways to study instead of actually leaving the school shit alone. It’s how he found the Reddit post that said not to have sex the night before an exam or it would jumble his brain.

The rational, sane part of him knew it was bullshit. But Rationality has been taken hostage by the screaming panicked hamster running in the wheel like there’s a feral werewolf chasing it. So he'd told Chris he didn't want to have sex. Chris was fine with that, because Daddy’s always been big on consent, and they'd gone to bed in sleep clothes for the first time since the heat went out that one winter. Of course this half-baked crock of Scott plan has ended in sleepless disaster. He should never have expected anything else. 

Stiles doesn't look up, choosing to hide in salt and pepper chest hair. "If you still want to, we could," he mumbles. He isn't embarrassed, exactly, that he needs this, because he came to terms with it a long time ago. If he wanted to be with Chris, he had no other choice. But he’s definitely feeling something like shame that he denied them both for no good reason. They totally could have fucked and be peacefully asleep by now.

"Mm?"

He kisses up Chris's chest to nibble at a collarbone. "Can we? I wanna," he whimpers. He hopes he can coax Daddy into the mood for _something_ , even if it’s not their usual. 

"Stiles," Chris sighs, exasperated. “It’s late, and I’m exhausted. I wanted to be asleep an hour ago.”

Stiles whines, because he feels bad for keeping Daddy awake, but also because he wanted to be asleep an hour ago, too. "I thought I could sleep without it, but I can’t." And now that he’s thinking about it, he doubts he'll be able to sleep until he does. There are hot swoops in his tummy, a restlessness gathering in the space between his hips. "Please Daddy?" He slides a hand toward the waistband of Chris’s pajama pants. 

But Daddy stops his hand. "I don’t have that in me right now. If you need it that bad, you’ll have to do the work." 

Stiles licks his lips. “Okay. What should I—?” 

Instead of answering, Daddy slots a thigh between his, draping one arm over him and cupping an ass cheek. Stiles’s breath hitches as his cheeks go hot, but he follows the unspoken instruction, wriggling closer until he can start to grind his half-hard cock against Daddy’s thigh. 

He closes his eyes, trying to focus on what he’s doing, on enjoying it so that it’ll go faster. Because as much as he needs this so his brain will quiet down, his body aches with tiredness, and his dick is filling slower than usual. 

“That’s it, baby,” Chris whispers, and Stiles’s hips hitch forward in response. “Rub off on Daddy’s thigh like the needy little brat you are.” 

He whines, ducking his head and curling his body forwards, one hand wrapped around Daddy’s hip because Chris isn’t moving. He’s fully hard now, and starting to leak, creating a damp patch in his sleep pants. 

“Dirty little slut,” Daddy grumbles, and it sends heat flashing through him, making his hips stutter. “Humping my leg, desperate because you thought you didn’t need your Daddy’s cock.”

Stiles pants, hips twisting frantically as he gets close. “‘M sorry,” he whimpers. 

Daddy hums knowingly. “You ever gonna make that mistake again?” 

“No, Daddy,” he whines. “Know better, promise.” 

“You gonna make it up to me?” He glances up and sees Daddy’s eyes are open, half-lidded with hunger. 

Stiles moans, grinding hard enough that he’s probably going to wake up chafed, but right now, he doesn’t care, because it feels good. “W-whatever you want, Daddy.” 

“Mm. Think I want my needy slut to wake me up by sucking me off.” 

Stiles gasps “ _Yes_ , I will, Daddy, _please_ ,” at the thought, shuddering through the climax that hits as he imagines wrapping his mouth around Chris’s morning wood. 

He’s limp after, panting wetly against Daddy’s chest as heavy warmth spreads through his limbs. He doesn’t want to get up, but knows he should—he’ll wake up with his pajama pants stuck to him otherwise. But when he tries to move, the arm and leg Chris has tangled around him press him back to the bed. “No. Sleep now.” 

And, well, there’s no sense in winding himself back up if he doesn’t need to. “Okay,” he sighs, dragging a pillow over to support his neck. “Goodnight, Daddy.” 

“Night, baby.” There’s a pause, and then Chris adds, “I meant it. My cock has an appointment with your mouth first thing tomorrow.” 

Stiles gives a sleepy giggle. “Wouldn’t miss it,” he murmurs, eyes drifting shut. 

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: the place where you can see [SushiOwl's](https://thesushiowl.tumblr.com/) projects and occasionally submit prompts, and see what all [Twist](https://queerfictionwriter.tumblr.com/) is up to with original and fandom writing projects.


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